


You ok?

by One_heck_of_a_guy_amiright



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Charles is an ikea employee, Erik is a Shark, Homeless!Erik, IKEA, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7193096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_heck_of_a_guy_amiright/pseuds/One_heck_of_a_guy_amiright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a prompt where an ikea employee (Charles) is worried about a customer  (Erik) who keeps sleeping on the beds because he may or may not be homeless. </p><p>Fluff'n'stuff brought on by my re watching the Cherik angst fest that is X-Men:First Class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Charles had just finished directing a lady to the potted plants when he saw him again. That one employee who kept sleeping on the beds. 

Technically, Ikea didn't forbid the man from sleeping on the bed, but seeing as he _would_ insist on sleeping on the nicest king sized bed in the 'very best' display bedroom (Raven's words, not his), he often had to wake him up and tell him to move. He worried Charles - he seemed to sleep very deeply, as if he didn't sleep any place else, and his clothes were ragged and he smelled a bit odd. Not unpleasant, but not like he had bathed recently, either. A sort of natural smell, if you would. 

Charles walked over to him. He was curled up beneath the duvet, lying on his side with his fist near his mouth. It would look sweet if the man didn't look as if -

If he had seen a great many terrible things, and nobody to help him.

Charles reluctantly shook him awake. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to move. I'm afraid people are staring." The man blinked awake, and gave Charles a shark's smile. "Well, no matter." He sat up and bent down to lace his boots up. "I had a good sleep." Charles hesitated, then said, "Look, are you alright?" The man looked up at him. "What do you mean? " he asked slowly. Charles frowned, fidgeting. "I mean, you come in here just to sleep, I have neverseen you with anyone, you don't have a car that I know of or anything. And forgive me if I say this, but that seems a lot like-" "Like a homeless man?" The customer finished his sentence for him. "Well done. You figured it out." 

Charles opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air. When he could force words out, they were : "Can I buy you a coffee?" The homeless man stood, and Charles was suddenly aware of two things: one, he was very tall, and two, he was very close and very attractive. Charles glared up at him, uneasy at the sensual display of dominantion the other man was showing - and how much Charles liked it. The other grinned, and said, "Well, well, how forward. You don't even know my name yet." Charles valiantly fought down a blush. "Yes, I do. It's Erik. I'm Charles, and I know your name because you talk in your sleep on the third person."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Well, Charles-" Charles hated how nics his name sounded with the other man saying it "-you may buy me a coffee."

When they were sitting in the cafeteria, with Erik sipping the hot coffee, Charles spoke again. "You know, you don't have to sleep in an Ikea bed. There are plenty of shelters that could take you in." Erik paused, and smiled mirthlessly into his cup. "An unstable abuse victim with a history of anger issues? I don't think so." Charles reached across the table to put his hand on top of Erik's. He rubbed it gently with his thumb. "Erik, listen to me. There's always someone who will help you. If none of those shelters will help, then I will." Erik paused with the cup nearly to his lips. "You - you would do that for me? I'm a stranger, and dangerous," he warned. "I'm unstable, and depressive. You - you don't know what you're getting yourself into, Charles. " Charles smiled, and took Erik's hand in both if his own. "Well, I would like to find out."


	2. Do you want to talk to someone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik needs to talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I left myself with a cliffhanger back there, I did this.

Charles could barely concentrate through his shift, knowing what situation Erik was in. How long had he been living like that? Where did he go at night? A thousand and one questions buzzed through his mind. 

Erik slept on a cot Charles had managed to find, after Charles had bought him a good meal. "The best Sweden can offer ", Charles had said whrn Erik began to tuck into the meatballs and gravy. Erik had tried to ignore the worried way Charles had looked at him as he ate.

He could tell the other man was worried about him, and that confused him. Why would this random Ikea worker worry about him? He was just a broken man with no place to sleep other than an Ikea.

 

To tell the truth, Charles didn't know why he worried either. Raven had always told him he was an idealistic softy, but he didn't think that wasa bad thing.

When his shift ended, he went to find Erik. The man was sleeping, but he was moaning in his sleep. Almost horrified, Charles crept closer, and saw that the sleeper had tears running down his cheeks. His words were nearly unintelligible, but Charles could make out one sentence, over and over. 

"No, please, don't kill Mama..."

Charles could not in good conscience let him suffer through whatever terrible memory Erik was reliving. He reached over and gently shook him.  
"Erik? Erik!"  
Erik jerked up, and shied away from the touch. The look in his glazed, tear-stained eyes made Charles' heart break. He took Erik's head in his hands and touched their foreheads together, something his mother had done to him when he had had nightmares as a child. "Erik, listen to me. It's just a dream. Just a dream. You're safe now." Erik looked in to his eyes, breathing hard. Slowly, the fear left his eyes, and in it's place was embarrassment. 

Charles rubbed his thumb on Erik's temple. "Are you ok?"

Erik squeezed his eyes shut, letting tears leak out.  
"I - I freamed -" He opened his eyes. "It doesn't matter." 

Charles shifted his body so that he was sitting cross legged facing Erik, being careful to keep eye contact. "Erik, listen to me. It _does_ matter. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine, but you mustn't keep it trapped inside you."

Erik lifted his hands to clasp Charles' wrists, and Charles could feel him trembling. His voice cracked as he spoke. "I - need to tell someone - I -" Charles continued to rub Erik's temple. "Tell me."

Erik lay down on the cot, motioning Charles to lie beside him. They faced each other, lying in the dim light of the storage closet like two best friends at a sleep over. Erik took a deep breath, and began.

"When I was a child, my family and I - were kidnapped. I was only fourteen. I - I was so scared." He licked his lips and averted his eyes. "I was so scared I nearly tore the bars off the cage they put us in."The man who kidnapped me, he said that if I - if I just- just- twisted a metal bar, to show how strong I was, whatever that meant, he-he would let my mother go free. And if I d-didn't, he-he would - would kill her." He was crying now, and Charles squeezed his arm. "You can stop anytime you want," he whispered. Erik shook his head. "I - I can't. I need to say this." He closed his eyes. "I couldn't do it. I didn't know how. I was so scared I couldn't do it again. My mother was there, and the last thing she ever said to me was, 'I love you'. And - and he killed her. He killed her, and I was so angry I ripped the place apart. And - and he did so many things to me, Charles, I -" He pressed his forehead against Charles' chest and shook silently. Charles ignored how damp his shirt was getting and rubbed Erik's hair. He made soft cooing sounds as the broken, homeless man in his arms cried out years of pain and torment.

Eventually, Erik's sobs died down into snuffles, and he looked up at Charles. "I'm sorry." Shocked, Charles scooted so he was face to face with Erik. "Don't be. I'm glad you told someone."

Charles looked down at his shirt, raising an eyebrow at the damp patch. Erik looked sheepishly at him. "Ah, sorry about that." Charles smiled. "No worries, Erik." He sat up. "I need to go home and make dinner. You cannot stay here, and the forecast for tonight is thunderstorms. I can't let you go out there." Erik looked up at him, trying not to look hopeful. "Meaning?" Charles stood and held out a hand to help Erik up. "I have a spareroom..."

Erik took the offered hand and stood up. Charles made a mental note to find a way of helping Erik up that would not include the taller man making him feel so pleasantly dominated. Erik looked down at him. "You would do that gor me?"  
Charles smiled. "It's the only right thing to do."

He gave a muffled yelp when Erik pulled him into a bone crushing hug. The taller man rocked Charles gently, and mumbled into his hair. "Nobody has ever done anything like this for me." Charles patted his back. "Come on. Let's get you home."

Erik loved the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you cry? :D


	3. Let me help you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the fluff I promised :3

Charles expected Erik to be aloof or embarrassed after his confession to Charles about his past. He didn't expect him to get...well...clingy. 

Not that Charles was particularly upset by that, but it was unexpected. He had thought a man like this would be embarrassed by crying in front of someone he didn't know.

Erik had kept as close as possible to Charles when they were walking to the car, nearly touching him. It felt...intimate. 

_Charles Francis Xavier, you are not going to develop feelings for this man. That is final!_  
He told himself. 

Still, it _was_ nice to feel the tall presence beside him.

Erik got into the passenger seat of the car, feeling half grateful and half foolish. What had he been thinking, trailing behind Charles like some lovesick puppydog?! But he had been kinder to Erik than anyone since his mother died...

Whatever happened, he wasn't going to try and use this man to heal. The one time he had gone to a therapist, they had told him to try and connect with others, to feel safe with being...intimate. 

But he always ended up hurting everyone who he tried to get close to. So, he wasn't going to try and be anything to Charles. He would only hurt him.

He looked sideways at the man in the driver's seat. 

_God, you've fallen for him already and you've only known him for a few hours. You're fucked, Erik. Not wanting to get close to the kid for fear of hurting him? You are so gone._

When they reached the house, Erik whistled through his teeth. "This is one hell of a place, Charles. How d'ya live here all by yourself? "

Chatles smiled. "I don't, actually. My sister, Raven, lives with me." 

Erik sudden felt cold. "Will she mind if I stay?"

Charles waved a hand. "Heavens, no! I don't even think she'll be here tonight - always with her boyfriend, Azazel." Erik visibly relaxed.

Charles turned to him. "Now, when did you last eat?" Erik smiled at him, the shark-like one. "At the Ikea, where you gave me food." Charles raised his eyebrows at him. "I mean before that." Erik rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Um...Monday, I think." Charles frowned. "It's Thursday, Erik. Are you saying you've not eaten for nearly four days?" 

Erik smiled at him, and the smile held no humour. "It's not as if there's a fridge on the side of the motorway, Charles." Charles' eyebrows shot into his hairline. "So is that where you live?! Why didn't you go to a shelter or something?!" He demanded. 

Erik looked at the ground. "I told you, nobody wants a broken man who can't control his anger." Charles reached for his hand and squeezed it. "There is _always_ someone, Erik. And, before you say it, you won't hurt me. I can handle myself." Erik looked at him in surprise. "How did you -" "How did I know you were about to say that? " Charles smiled at him. "I'm pretty good at that sort of thing. Sort of psychic, one might say. Or a telepath."

Erik smiled at him, a real smile this time. Charles realised that he was still holding hands with him, and awkwardly let go. "Now, I can't say I'm the best cook, but I can make spaghetti, if that's alright." Wrik's smile broadened. "Spaghetti would be wonderful."

Charles, as it turned out, could make spaghetti, just way too much. The lid on the pan could barely fit once the pasta was cooked. Erik, however, had sixths, so it turned out alright in the end. 

Once the kitchen was cleaned and everything put away, Charles padded off to find Erik some night things. Erik looked around the sitting room the other had left him in, and wondered idly why this man, who so obviously came from money, worked at an Ikea. He was glad he did, though. The wind and rain pounded against the house, and the cracks of thunder made him very grateful he wasn't trying to keep warm in the trash bag and duvet under the scraggly trees on the side of the motorway.

Charles brought back a t-shirt, an unopened packet of boxers, and a pair of gray pyjama trousers. "These are the biggest I own. I'm afraid I don't think I have anything that would quite fit you," he said apologetically. Erik touched the flannel and cotton, marveling at the bright, clean colours and soft materials. "I'm sure this will do," he said softly. Charles showed him to the bathroom, where he could shower and brush his teeth.

Erik nearly moaned aloud when the hot water hit his back. He had forgotten how amazing it was to be warm and wet and _clean_. The soap was lavender scented, and foamed delightfully, and the shampoo - he could write a goddamn poem in praise of that shampoo. He could barely keep awake as he washed, so delightful was the feeling. He reckoned he spent nearly twenty minutes just being clean and warm and wet.

The towels were amazing too, striking the balance between coarse and soft, and Erik sat on the floor for at least five minutes just being wrapped in those towels.  
The clothes were a bit tight, but not uncomfortably so, and Erik was shocked at how thin he seemed in them.

The toothbrush, still in its little packet, and the toothpaste, refreshingly minty, was amazing too. He brushed everywhere, his front and back teeth, his tongue (which tickled), his mouth, everywhere. 

He had forgotten how lovely it was to feel clean and safe. 

Charles, in the meantime, changed the sheets on the spare bed, tidied the room, and provided extra blankets in case Erik got cold - although, with two duvets (in the special dark red 1000 thread count covers) and a quilt, he doubted he would. He stepped back, satisfied at the sight of the cosy bed and neat room. 

Erik poked his head out of the bathroom door, looking for Charles. He padded in bare feet down the hall, marveling at how soft even the carpet was. Everything was soft and warm and clean here. 

Charles exited the bedroom, and nearly smacked into Erik. "Oh! You're out!" Erik smiled warmly at him. "Your bathroom is amazing, you know? " Charles looked at the taller man, steadfastly ignoring how good he looked with the fabric stretched across his chest and hips. "Well, it's-"  
Charles stopped as he realised that the man in front of him had probably been using public bathrooms for goodness knew how long. The bathroom that he took for granted would seem amazing to him. "-it's nice, isn't it?" 

He showed Erik into his room. "My bedroom is down the hall, third door on the right. You're welcome to get something to eat if necessary, and I trust you know where the bathroom is?" Erik nodded, looking around the room in amazement. "Yes, thank you..." Charles smiled softly at him. "Then, I bid you goodnight."  
"Good night, and...thank you."  
Charles grinned. "It's the very least I could do."

When Charles left the room, Erik curled up beneath the duvets, burrowing into the mattress. He smiled sleepily to himself as he drifted off to sleep, with the rain beating down on the windowpane and lightning flashing in the distance.  
_I'm the luckiest man alive._


	4. Getting to know you, getting to feel free and easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last update till Sunday, as I'm going away for the weekend and can't update till then. Points to the first person who gets the reference in the chapter title ;)

Erik woke up the next morning with birdsong in his ears. He frowned, with his eyes still tightly shut. 

_Why are there birds here? And why am I so warm?_

Not that he was complaining about it - mornings on the side of the motorway were more often than not cold, damp affairs. 

Oh, right. He remembered now - the amazing shower, the spaghetti that kept coming and coming until he was full till bursting. 

Charles.

Oh god, _Charles_. 

How could Erik forget him? His amazing kindness, his calmly optimistic demeanour, his gorgeous blue eyes, his full, smiling mouth with - 

_Hold it roght there, Erik Lehnsherr, you are not going to describe his lips as kissable. No. Definitely not,_ he sternly rebuked himself.

 _but they are,_ sang a little voice in his head. 

He groaned. 

A knock on the door startled him. "Come in," he called, running a sleepy hand through his hair in a half-assed attempt at looking presentable.   
Charles opened the door with his elbow, as his hands were full of tray. "Good morning! I was hoping you would be awake. I made you breakfast, " he chirruped. "I hope you like pancakes."

Erik's mouth grew into a broad grin. "I - I love pancakes - wow" he managed, as Charles put the tray on the bed. The smaller man fussily arranged everything in a way that made Erik's pulse quicken. He looked up at the former - former! - homeless man. "Do you mind if I eat with you?"

Erik blinked, then said: "Oh! Of course not! Thank you so much..." he curled his legs up to create a space for Charles to sit. 

Charles carefully got on the bed, to avoid spilling the small jug of maple syrup, and to Erik's surprise (he refused to admit that there was happiness in there) sat right between Erik's legs. 

"There's maple syrup, golden syrup, and jam, " he said, pointing to them as he spoke. "I wasn't sure if you wanted tea or coffee, so I made both." 

Erik was bowled over, to say the least. Here was this man, a near-total stranger, who invited him into his home, and made him breakfast. He felt like if he didn't laugh, he would cry. "This is - how can I ever thank you?" He whispered, looking into Charles' eyes. Charles began to cut into his share of the fluffy pancakes. "It's common decency, I suppose. Now, tell me a bit more about yourself. " he invited. Erik carefully poured golden syrup over the pancakes. "Well, my name is Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, I am 32 years old, and I was born in Poland. I was k-kidnapped,-" he nearly choked over the word "- at the age of fourteen, and I managed to escape from my kidnappers, who are now dead, a year later. I have been living on the streets ever since I emigrated to America, when I was eighteen." He kept his eyes averted as he spoke, focusing on the taste of his pancake. 

Charles leaned forward and gently lifted Erik's face up. He used his thumb to wipe away a tear from Erik's cheek. "I am so sorry, Erik. You should never have had to go through that." Erik grasped Charles' hand in his own. Charles smiled sadly at him. "I promise you will never have to live like that again. You are welcome to stay at my house for as long as you want. What's mine is yours now," he said softly. 

Erik's eyes widened. "You mean I can stay?" Charles laughed. "Of course you can stay! You didn't think I would just turn you out into the streets again, did you?" Erik smiled as well. His cheeks were wet now, but they were tears of grateful joy. "Thank you. "

About an hour later, Charles and Erik knew a lot more about each other. Charles, Erik found, not only loved people, but he had several Ph.D's, had an undying passion for Narnia, and he wanted to open a school one day. Erik wondered why he was working at an Ikea, but Charles only shrugged and smiled whrn he was questioned.

Erik, Charles discovered, was a very skilled metal worker, having been apprenticed to a blacksmith in Poland, was a cat person, and secretly longed for children, and had all his life. "Why is it a secret? " Charles had asked. Erik shook his head. "Never really told anyone before now. It always seemed a bit...sissyish, I suppose."

When Erik finally got up, Charles clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, I just realised! You have nothing to wear!" Erik shrugged awkwardly. "I'm sure I can find something...." Charles nodded, but his mind was obviously working at a mile a minute. " Azazel is always leaving his things here, he's probably about your size, but you need something else. We'll need to get you something to wear of your own..."

Thus, an hour later, Erik was wearing a t-shirt and pair of jeans that made Charles' heartbeat accelerate, and they were in the car on their way to the mall.

Erik picked out a few turtlenecks, and some jeans, and Charles thought he would faint when Erik walked out of the changing room. It ought to be illegal to look that good in just a purple turtleneck and jeans. He low key glared at a young woman who looked at Erik a bit longer than was proper.

Erik noticed the look, and laughed softly. "Don't worry, Charles. I bat for the other team, anyways," he whispered in Charles' ear. It was a comment on how much self-control Charles had to not jump him then and there.

_Does that mean he likes me back?_

Wait, back?!?

Oh shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that's enough to tide y'all over till Sunday! 
> 
> Now, the question remains : should I bump the rating up to an M? You decide!


	5. Penny in the air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a comment on how bad my memory is that I had to reread the last chapter of my own fic to know where to start up again.

When they got back, they found Raven lounging on the couch in her underwear. Charles yelped and covered his eyes, swore, and half-screamed, "Jesus _Christ_ Raven, we have a guest! And I've _told_ you, I hate when you do this!" 

Erik, who had stopped to wrestle his boots off, looked up quizzically. "What's going on?" Charles turned to him and sighed. "My sister is naked. Again." Raven threw a pillow at him from her position on the couch. "I'm not totally naked, Charles, I have underwear on!" Charles, face aflame, yelled back. "You are indecent, Raven! Please, for the love of everything, put some bloody clothes on!"

He didn't turn around until he heard Raven get up and walk off with a hard-done-by groan. He sighed, and frowned at Erik's smile. "It's not funny, you know." Erik shook his head, still smiling. 

Charles was puzzled, but a tiny voice wondered if the smile was for him.

He had fallen so hard for this man it made no sense. 

Around lunchtime, Raven slouched into the kitchen in her bathrobe. She threw her arms up dramatically. "You see, brother dear? I am "decent" now. " she made air quotes as she spoke. Charles rolled his eyes at her. She looked curiouslyat the sandwiches he was making. "Why are you making a BLT? You hate tomatoes." Charles tapped her playfully on the nose. "It's for Erik, silly. He's our guest." She lounged on the countertop, and drawled playfully, "Awww, is he your boyfriend?" She teased. Charles carefully avoided her eyes. 

She put a hand to her mouth in a half-hearted attempt to cover her grin. "Oh my god. You liiike him!" Charles blushed and tried to mumble a negative. Raven hooted with laughter. "Oh my god, Charles, you're _smitten_."

Erik walked in. "Who's smitten?" He asked, making Charles' heart stop. Raven smiled smugly. "Nobody."

Charles immediately resolved to never grumble about Azazel again, he was so grateful. 

Ten minutes later, they were sitting at the table, eating sandwiches, and, in the case of Charles and Erik, playing a game. As far as Raven could tell, it consisted of one person looking at the other until they noticed, and then looking down with a red face. She snorted, startling them both. "For Petes sake, either you make googoo eyes or you don't, but make up your minds!" She mumbled round her peanut butter and banana sandwich. The two men blushed, and looked at each other. 

"We weren'tmaking googoo eyes...were we?" Asked Erik, trying not to let his voice tremble from nervousness.

Charles cleared his throat, licked his lips, and put down his grilled cheese. He took a deep breath and looked at his sister. "Er...Raven?" She smiled sweetly at her brother. "Yes, Charles?" He glanced at Erik, and then back at her. "Could, um, we have some privacy, please? " Erik looked at Charleswith large eyes. Raven grinned and stood up. "Of course! Good luck, " she said over her shoulder as she walked out. 

Immediately after she closed the door, she pressed her ear to it. She wasn't going to miss this for worlds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, now we're getting into it....


	6. Can't help it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spicy times are ahead, my children! >:)

When Raven closed the door, Charles turned breathlessly to Erik. He licked his lips and looked up at the ceiling. "Um. Erik, I, er..." he stopped. What could he say? _oh, Erik, there's nothing I would like more than for you to push me up against the wall and violently make out with me!_

Perhaps not. 

Erik, for his part, looked at Charles intently, trying to send a vibe of 'I really really like you' to him telepathically. Unfortunately, humans aren't telepathic. 

Charles looked out the window, and said with false brightness, "Oh, what a lovely day! Do you fancy going for a walk?" Erik nodded, wondering how that would further his cause of kissing Charles senseless, past trauma be damned. 

He deserved to love and be loved, goddammit.

The two men walked through the garden, awkwardly looking at each other and then looking away in embarrassment. Finally, Erik decided that enough was enough. Placing a hand on the small of Charles' back, he guided him to a tall tree.

Charles turned, and he was so close to the other man their chests touched. He looked up. "Erik?"

Erik turned his attention from Charles' lips (he had admitted to himself that they were, in fact, kissable) to look him in the eyes. "Yes?"

Charles placed his hands on Erik's shoulders. "You...you can kiss me, if you want." 

Erik needed no further bidding, capturing Charles' lips in a tender kiss that quickly turned into a more passionate one as he discovered just how kissable those lips were. He nipped the smaller man's lower lip, demanding rather than asking for entry. 

Charles moaned, allowing Erik to plunge his tongue in and explore. He felt like he was going weak at the knees, and he was grateful when Erik pinned him against the tree trunk, one arm either side of his head. He wrapped his arms around Erik's neck, making all sorts of little noises as the taller man kissed him.

He gasped when they broke for air, a gasp that quickly deepened into a moan as Erik leaned his head forward and began to nibble at his ear. He gave a hiss when Erik bit down hard and softly kissed the sore spot. God, but Erik knew how to turn him into a pile of goop with his mouth and this was their first kiss. 

Erik smiled at the noises Charles was making, and experimented with gently scraping his teeth along the man's jugular. He was pleasantly surprised at the reaction. When Charles felt the teeth, his moan was almost a shout and he bucked his hips into Erik's. He began to pant as the other teasingly licked and scraped along his neck to his ear and back again. "Oh, God, Erik..." he felt a hardness begin to tighten his trousers. Erik smiled as he felt it press against his leg, an idea forming in his mind. He slowly began to move his leg, rubbing against the smaller man's erection. Charles' breathing grew laboured, and he could barely focus on anything other than that sensation. 

Erik, enjoying the other's reaction, dragged his leg across where he guessed that the sensitive tip would be. A shout rewarded his efforts. He continued to leave purplish hickeys along Charles' neck, completely intent on dragging out the other man's pleasure. Charles could hardly see, forcing himself to breathe. He had no idea how one person could turn him on so much. It made him vaguely uncomfortable, until Erik brushed his palm across the bulge and made him forget everything. 

"Oh, _fuck_ , Erik, I'm gonna cum..." he managed to pant. Erik only doubled his ministrations, wanting his lover to cum in those nice trousers. He dipped a hand into them, smirking as he felt the tell-tale wetness of pre-cum on the hard member. He could feel his own trousers growing tight at the knowledge. He bit down on Charles' collarbone as he gently squeezed, bringing Charles screaming over the edge. Warm cum spilled into his hand, boxers, and trousers, leaving white stains on the fabric. Charles collapsed onto his knees, looking into Erik's satisfied eyes. He grabbed Erik's hand, and sucked his fingers clean as he looked at him. The taller man smiled, filing away that particular kink for future use. 

Charles, now level with Erik's belt, realised that the other man was yet unsatisfied. He fumbled with the zipper, finally dragging it down and exposing the boxer-covered member. He looked into Erik's eyes for consent. They were wide and dark, and gave him all the assurance he needed. He carefully took down the last layer of cloth, exposing the member to the cool air. 

Charles licked his lips, and took as much as possible into his mouth. Erik gasped, and involuntarily bucked his hips. He reached diwn and grabbed Charles' hair, guiding his head as he face-fucked the other man. Charles nearly gagged as the tip went down his throat, but managed not to throw up. At the added sensation, Erik's movements became rougher, thrusting harder into Charles' mouth. It felt like forever and no time at all when he came, the bitter spunk flowing down Charles' throat. 

He zipped his trousers back up, panting. Charles , exhausted, collapsed against the tree. "You...you've ruined my trousers, " he said when he had enough energy to speak. Erik smirked, and lifted Charles into his arms bridal style. "Good. They'll be a memento to this occasion. A spoil of war, if you would. " Charles narrowed his eyes as the taller began to carry him back to the house. "Was that a pun, Mr. Lehnssherr?"

Erik laughed aloud in the sunshine and birdsong as he walked towards the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write. 
> 
> P. S. If you're curious, the tree is the one that Scott destroys in XM:A. He'll destroy it some other way in this AU, worry not >:)


	7. Happily ever after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is, folks. The end. It was kinda hard, but I really hope you enjoy! :)

Ten years later, Erik and Charles vainly attempted to ignore the noises of children and birdsong. They were trying to leach out a few last minutes of sleep, but the yells of their six adopted children were getting rather insistent. The married couple finally admitted defeat when at least four children burst in, squealing and jumping on the bed. Pietro shook Erik and yelled in his ear, "Daddy Daddy wake up! Wake up Daddy!" Little Jean thumped on Charles' back. "You promised we could have a picnic! In the park!"

Charles groaned and propped himself up on his elbows. "Sweetheart, it's early yet, and Daddy and I got to bed late last night." The redheaded six year old pouted. "Logan said you wanted us to wake you up!" Erik rubbed his face. Their oldest, Logan, seemed to enjoy his parent's suffering. Kurt, the youngest and gentlest, snuggled between his two fathers. "You _did_ promise, Papa, " he gently reminded Charles. Charles rubbed his son's head. "So I did. Well, if one of you would fetch my wheelchair..." Pietro flung himself off the bed, crashing into Jubilation. She thrust him off of her and the two fought their way to the wheelchair in the corner. 

Eventually, the older girl won out, and she triumphantly manoeuvred the wheelchair over to the bed. Erik helped Charles into it, and the cavalcade paraded down the corridor to the breakfast room. Pietro and Jean whooped as they preceded the chair, pretending to play trumpets on their fingers. Kurt whistled shrilly on Charles' lap, proud of his new found skill. Erik, with Jubilation on his back, pushed the chair to the kitchen. 

Ororo, who had been shoving Lucky Charms in her mouth, chokedwith laughter when she saw her dads and siblings enter the room, making an ungodly amount of noise in Erik's opinion. Logan, who had been sitting on the table eating a Big Mac of all things, nearly fell off laughing. Charles smiled benignly at his family. This morning was about typical in the Xavier-Lensherr household. 

Erik, for his part, thought about how, ten years ago, he had been sleeping in an Ikea bed. His life had turned upside down when Charles had just decided to care. He kissed his husband, ignoring the chorud of "ewww!" from their kids. He smiled at his husband. "I love you."

"I love you too, Erik."

 

They would have their ups and downs, but Erik knew, looking at their strange but beautiful family, that they would live happily ever after.


End file.
